Chapter 25
Stella
What does one wear when meeting their best-friend’s-brother-with-benefits’ fancy schmancy parents for the first time? I’ve torn apart my entire closet and nothing I own is screaming “I’m a respectable young woman who owns clothes that aren’t second-hand.”
A rainbow of dresses decorates most of my living area as I flop down on the bed.
The only thing I’ve found so far that’s remotely appropriate is a little black dress, some cute tights, and a bulky black headband to go with it.
It’s giving “maybe going to a funeral later,” but at this point I’m out of options.
Even if I hadn’t volunteered at the shelter today, I still wouldn’t have been able to head to the shops in time.
I managed to snag the morning shift from Kyle who wanted to go out to Barrie to visit his nana, just to put a couple more bucks away before the holidays.
Even if you’d had time to shop, you wouldn’t have, I think to myself morbidly. Without looking at them, the weight of the envelopes at my front entrance pull at me. I can hear the screams of the balances marked on them, the past due dates, the threats of going to collections.
It would be worse if I didn’t remember what the money was spent on.
Cab rides, healthy foods, ramp installation, shower modifications. I run through my mental list, letting the reminder calm me.
This is Christmas, and I’ll be darned if I let something as silly as money get me down.
I’ve already given the girls their gifts—some cute socks covered in different desserts for Nessa, and for Hazel, this gorgeous gold chain I found at the thrift shop.
After years of living on a tight budget, I’ve learned the best ways to give great gifts without breaking the bank.
I glance briefly at the small envelope on the kitchen table.
James’ name is scrawled across in my best handwriting.
It’s not much, and I don’t know what you’re supposed to get your best-friend’s-brother-with-benefits, but I couldn’t get him nothing.
My phone starts buzzing out of nowhere. Scrambling to find it in the carnage of clothes and blankets, I snag it right before it goes to voicemail.
“Hello?”
“Hey girl, merry Christmas Eve!” Nessa shouts down the line. She sounds a little drunk, but drunk calls from Nessa aren’t exactly uncommon.
I chuckle back at her. “Merry Christmas Eve, Nessa.”
“Can you believe it’s almost the end of the year?
Like, where does time even go? Did you know that time is relative because the longer you live, the less a certain amount of time feels to you.
So, like, a year when you’re seven feels like forever because it’s a seventh of your life, but when you’re a hundred, it’s literally only one percent of your life.
That’s why it seems so short!” I’m having trouble keeping up with her, and I’m not sure why this call is happening.
Chaos is simply a part of the package deal when it comes to Nessa.
“That’s some deep thinking for eleven at night, Nessa,” I say, trying to calm her down a bit. I know she’s home from James’ now—he messaged earlier inviting me over—but if she’s alone and this is the beginning of a spiral…
I’ve only seen Nessa spiral once before. It was shortly after the launch of ‘Home Brewed.’ I had gone in for a packing shift since the new boxes were set to go out soon.
“Beck, I’m serious! You need better security in here.”
“Nessa, our security is fine, and that guy was just drunk. Not every drunk guy is out to get you, okay?”
“Oh, so you don’t care if I get assaulted, is that it? I should just expect the best from everyone and be startled when that plan doesn’t work out?”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it, Nessa.” Beck folds his arms over his chest, his forehead scrunched as he looks over Nessa, slouched in the chair in his office. I tuck myself out of sight, not wanting to get caught eavesdropping.
“Why don’t we all take a break? Maybe grab some water?” Hazel suggests, ever the peacekeeper.
I swing around the corner right as Hazel and Beck exit, walking towards the kitchen.
“I’m worried about her,” Hazel whispers before they’re out of earshot. I’ll admit, I’ve been worried about her too. Her drinking has gotten worse, her behaviour more erratic… I love her, but she’s not the Nessa I met months ago.
I slip through the door quietly and place a soothing hand on Nessa’s shoulder. Her eyes are misty and red-rimmed when she looks up at me.
“Are you okay?” I ask. I know the answer, but politeness is ingrained in me.
“No.” Nessa says without elaborating. I crouch down next to her.
“What was it about that guy that set you off? Shouting and pushing a customer? That doesn’t seem like you. You used to handle these things like a pro.”
“I just—” her eyes dart around before she hangs her head. “They all look like him,” she mutters.
“Him?”
“Yeah, all it took was one Instagram story for him to find Hazel here. He was so mad when he came in, I thought he was there for me. And then when he hurt Hazel… all I could think was that I was grateful he wasn’t going after me next. How fucking selfish is that?”
Justin. Hazel’s ex.
The stories I’ve heard about him have me feeling nauseous.
He tricked Nessa into thinking he was available and got her to sleep with him, which is how Hazel found out he was cheating.
Then he started following Hazel around, and when he crashed into the workplace to find Hazel, he singled Nessa out specifically.
No, not singled out. Threatened.
Watching the camera footage as he pointed that bat at her, the eerie smile he gave her as he propositioned her… I can’t imagine being in her position.
“Oh, honey…”
“Don’t you ‘oh, honey’ me. It’s fine. It’s whatever.
It’s not about me, it never was. I know that.
He was never there for me. He didn’t want me.
No one wants me. I’m just Nessa…” she trails off, not making sense anymore.
The faint smell of vodka wafts from her breath. Jesus, is she drunk on the job?
“Nessa, it’s okay to have feelings about this. It was really scary, and he threatened you. It’s normal to have that kind of reaction. Have you considered talking to someone?” Despite the strong front she puts on, Justin’s assault had shaken her.
“Like a shrink? I don’t need a fucking shrink, okay? I’m fine.” She blusters around for a moment, grabbing her jacket and keys. “I’m walking home. See you tomorrow.” Then she leaves without another word, and I’m left standing in the middle of Beck’s office, stunned.
“She left,” I say when Hazel and Beck return, not bothering to wait for the question. They exchange a solemn look.
“Thanks, Stella. You can clock out early if you want, we’ve got it from here.”
“What can I say? I’m a deep thinker,” Nessa giggles, pulling me back into the moment.
“I wanted to call and say I love you, and you’re my best friend, and we should totally work New Year’s Eve together!
” She gasps suddenly. “Oh! We should hang out tomorrow! I’m not going to my parent’s place ‘cause they suck. Wanna come over and watch crappy Christmas movies and eat too much?” I can hear someone trying to talk to her in the background, but she seems to keep moving away from them.
“I’m sorry, honey, I’m busy.” I actually am a little sorry. I can’t imagine not having any family to see on Christmas.
“You going out to see your dad?”
“Yeah,” I reply, since it’s not a complete lie. I’m going to visit first thing in the morning then head over for lunch with James in the late afternoon.
“Is he sick or something? You visit him a lot. Or maybe you guys actually get along,” she snorts.
“I don’t get along at all with my parents.
You know what my mom said to me last time I saw her?
” My heart cracks as Nessa barrels on without pause.
“She told me that I’m an abomination, an embarrassment, and that I shouldn’t come around anymore. That all it does is cause her pain.”
I didn’t even know Nessa had been out to see her parents. Last I’d heard, it had been years since they’d spoken. I can’t imagine severing a bond with a parent, much less my child. I don’t know how she’s getting through it, even if hers are colossal jerks.
“You’re making me a little nervous. Are you going to be okay?” I ask. I won’t, in good conscience, leave her like this, but I’m exhausted. All I want to do is sleep.
“Oh, I’m fine. I’m always fine,” she singsongs.
Nessa is someone I associate with laughter, dancing, tequila, and enjoying life.
Never sadness. Not this deep, soul-drenching pain that I didn’t know was in her.
It takes a certain light to expose that kind of pain.
I’ve seen it before, in my dad, and I can’t ignore it when I see it now.
“We could have a sleepover?” I say, about as sure of my offer as I am about joining an MLM that’s really just food-coloured laxatives.
“Hell yes! That’s a perfect idea. You’re the best, Stella, for real.”
“Okay, but you’re taking an uber! Do not drive a car, Vanessa,” I’m aiming for a threatening tone. She only laughs it off.
“What are you, my new mommy?” she whines. “Ugh, Beth is here, she’ll drive me, right, Beth?”
“Yes, Nessa,” calls another voice—Beth’s.
At least she’s not alone.
“Alright, then get your little butt over here young lady!” Since we’ve shared our locations with each other, I can confirm that she’s at least on her way.
I breathe pure relief when an unfamiliar car pulls up and both her and Beth climb out.
I buzz them in, taking in Nessa’s shivering frame as she forgot to wear a warmer coat.
She’s dressed only in some ratty pink sweatpants, a massive hoodie, and an oversized scarf.
Her usually meticulous, flaming red curls are in disarray.
She hasn’t taken her makeup off yet and it’s smeared from one side of her face to the other.
She greets me with a lopsided smile, taking the offered hot tea, and crashes on my bed, which has been cleared of all of my clothes. She’s asleep before I even reach her.
Beth follows her into the apartment, her lips pinched together as she watches Nessa closely. She’s gripping her own scarf like a lifeline.
“Do you think she’s okay?” the leggy blonde asks quietly, wringing her hands. We share an uncertain, concerned moment.
“I don’t know.”
“Me neither. I’m worried.” She looks at me, searching for reassurance. I don’t have any.
“Me too.”
“Thank you for looking after her. I’m already supposed to be on the road to my family. She invited me out for a drink, which turned into five drinks, which turned into… well, this. I didn’t want to leave her alone in this state.”
“I’ve got it from here,” I say, patting her arm.
She gives me a grateful smile as she tiptoes out the door, leaving me and Nessa alone.
I drape her in a blanket, turn down the TV volume, and snuggle up next to her under the covers.
When she gets restless, I rub the top of her arm, lightly dragging my nails the way my mom used to when I was sick or upset.
Nessa may have her flaws, but she’s a sweet, vibrant woman. It doesn’t take a genius to realize that all she wants is to be loved.
Anyone who would hurt her would be a horrible person.
A horrible person indeed.